


A Chance Meeting

by ponticle



Series: Mass Effect Stories [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Best Friends, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Phone Sex, Romance, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, loss of a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-12
Updated: 2017-10-20
Packaged: 2018-12-01 02:01:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11476269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ponticle/pseuds/ponticle
Summary: Gil lands on Kadara on the worst day of his life. Reyes Vidal refuses to leave him to his own devices.[Slow burn rare pair romance. Ryder and Jaal feature prominently in later chapters. Subscribe for updates.]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Future chapters may (probably will) require an E rating, but this one starts at M.

* * *

It’s been three days since Gil’s world fell apart—less than half a week since the monitor stopped beeping. 72 hours since something broke that he can’t fix. Three days since he _should_ have been a father… and he doesn't know what to do.

Kadara is a good place to waste time. It’s remote and full of shady characters, but it has alcohol, and that’s basically all he needs. Besides, it’s one of his few options. Eos was out the second Jill lost their baby. She can’t even _look_ at him. Voeld is too bloody cold and Havarl is too humid. Besides, Ryder and Jaal are on Havarl—he doesn’t want them to see him like this.

He just never thought _this_ would be his fate: hiding out in a shitty tavern to avoid the eventuation of 600 years of cryosleep. He thought he would be someone different—honed by the fire of pioneering, tempered by its many challenges. But no—he’s just ruined; Andromeda beat him.

“Have I seen you around here before?” asks someone.

Gil doesn’t even bother to look up. His head aches and he’s seeing spots in the Kadara sunlight out the slatted windows.

“Hey—” insists the _someone_ , “who are you?”

Gil turns incredibly slow. He’s pretty drunk and he knows it will hurt if he spins too fast. At least he has the wherewithal to handle these self-preservation tasks. When his eyes land on the _someone’s_ face, he blinks. It’s a _handsome_ someone, he has to admit. And although his body is ruined from the sheer volume of alcohol he’s imbibed, he thinks he feels something twitch.

“I’m Gil,” he says plainly. His voice comes out hoarse and rasping. He hasn’t spoken to anyone _since_ —well, it’s been three days.

“Reyes Vidal,” says the someone.

“Hi…” Gil isn’t sure what else he’s supposed to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He’s beyond the point of caring anyway. What good is a name on someone he doesn't know? In fact, what’s the point of a name on _anyone_? His baby had a name… and now she doesn’t.

“What’s your business here?” asks Reyes.

Gil tries not to groan audibly. He doesn’t have the energy for this.

“Listen…” Reyes sits in the stool adjacent to Gil’s and leans in close. “Everyone who comes here has to abide by our codes… they have to report to me.”

Gil smirks. He doesn’t mean to, but he feels it happening. He’s too drunk and too sad for this kind of posturing. He expects he isn’t endearing himself to this Reyes character, but he almost _wants_ to get into a bar fight at this point. He isn’t even sure he’s _alive_ anymore—some blood might prove it one way or another.

“Okay,” Reyes clears his throat. “I think you’ve had enough, friend.”

“I’m not your friend,” says Gil.

Reyes raises an eyebrow.

“Just leave me alone,” adds Gil.

Reyes puts a hand gently on his shoulder; it only serves as an surge to anger.

Gil stands and shakes Reyes off. “I said back off.”

Reyes nods to someone—scratch that: _two_ someones—over Gil’s shoulders. Before Gil even knows what’s happening, he’s being dragged backward into the dark. Metal storage crates give way to sewer pipes. He struggles, trying to get out of the grasp of these assholes, to no avail. They throw an opaque bag over his head and he’s hurtling toward the ground. His shoulder makes painful contact with a strip of something—it feels like rebar. He wonders if he’s bleeding.

“Just let him dry out for a few hours,” says Reyes.

Gil wants to argue, but he isn’t sure why. This is painful, but it pales in comparison to the pain inside his mind—the pain he can’t shake.

 

* * *

 

A while later, he wakes. He can’t tell if it’s been an hour or ten, but his head hurts, so it has at least been long enough for a full-blown hangover to set in. He manages to sit up, but no further. Standing seems an impossibility. He crawls toward the mouth of this makeshift prison. It’s basically a storage crate on its side with vertical holes cut into it, instead of bars. Nevertheless, the hangs onto them as if they’re the real, _earthly_ , thing.

“Hello?” he yells.

_Nothing._

“Hello!”

Something rustles. He tries to kneel, but it’s only mildly successful.

“Feeling better?” asks the Reyes person.

Gil laughs. “Yes. Quite. I’ve gotten over all my troubles in one afternoon of your care. How fantastic.”

Reyes doesn’t look amused. He wipes a hand across his forehead and shoulders a huge rifle. It’s not well-kept, though—something crude… almost homemade.

“So now that I’ve recovered, I’d like to return to my ship,” he says.

He came to Kadara on a small transport ship. It’s shitty as fuck, but he can’t make himself care. It has a bunk and a crew that doesn’t ask questions. There’s no one there who wants to _know_ him—not like Chris Ryder did.

It hurts to think about her in some small way. Jill always thought of Chris as her _replacement_. It was ridiculous, of course, but Chris _is_ quite a person—strong and smart and resourceful. Jill blamed Chris when Gil didn’t make it to the hospital in time to meet his daughter… when he missed her by mere seconds. If he’s honest with himself, Gil blames Chris too.

She lived for one hour—his baby… his _daughter_. During that time, he’s told she blinked and cried; she grasped for Jill’s hands and kicked her legs. No amount of medicine could save her, though. No number of genetic manipulations that led to her inception could keep her alive. So much for the modern age.

 _Fuck Andromeda_.

“Were you on the cargo ship, Minnow?” asks Reyes.

“Yeah—what about it?”

“They left.”

_Fuck._

“I’d be happy to find you a place to stay for tonight, though,” offers Reyes. “I’m a big proponent of commerce in this sector.”

Gil rolls his eyes. He turns out his pockets and finds his credit chip is missing. He had a bad feeling about that. He remembers something about a card game and losing—badly.

“Uh… I don’t suppose any of those places will accept me on the promise of dishwashing?” he jokes.

Reyes sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He looks disappointed. Frankly, it’s the last thing Gil wants. In fact, it’s the last fucking straw.

“All right, just let me rot in here then; god knows I deserve it,” he snaps.

Reyes backs up instinctively—just a couple inches, but it’s there, reminding Gil that he’s losing his shit.

“Fuck you,” Gil adds for effect.

“You’re welcome to stay in there all night, but I think you’d be better off coming with me,” says Reyes.

“Where? To some other shitbox prison?”

Reyes _almost_ laughs—a smile passes over his face for a second, anyway. “My place _is_ rather shitty—but it’s leaps and bounds above this.” He gestures to the container walls.

“You want to take me to your house?” asks Gil. He’s confused. Is Reyes trying to be _nice_ to him or suggest something lewd?

“I thought it would be preferable to sleeping on the floor,” says Reyes.

“You’re not going to try to fuck me, are you? ...because I’m not in the mood…” says Gil. He’s not really trying to make a joke—he’s just out of his mind with grief—but it comes out like a joke.

Reyes smiles. Gil notices he has dimples. _Fuck_.

“That wasn’t at the top of my list,” says Reyes. “I think you threw up on yourself earlier.”

Gil looks down at his shirt. He hopes it’s _his_ vomit and not someone else’s—anything feels possible at this point.

“Fine. I’ll come to your house…” agrees Gil.

Reyes gingerly pops the lock off the door. It swings open with a whine.

“Come on, then,” he says, extending his hand.

Gil is reticent to take it. He eyes it suspiciously while he argues with himself.

“Let’s go… it’s getting dark soon,” says Reyes.

“Fine.”

* * *

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil spends the night at Reyes' house.

* * *

As it turns out, Reyes wasn’t kidding about his house being shitty. The whole place is barely the size of Gil’s dorm in college. It’s basically just one room: kitchenette on one end and oversized bed on the other. It’s clean, though.

As Reyes closes the door, It doesn’t escape Gil that there’s a strategically placed mirror on one wall. He’s about to laugh, when he catches his own reflection. 

_Holy shit._

He looks horrible. He regrets making jokes about Reyes wanting to fuck him—no one in his right mind would want to fuck him.

“You can put these on after you’ve had a shower,” says Reyes. He hands him a soft pile of clothes.

“Thanks,” says Gil. He might feel horrible, but he’s not a complete jackass. He still remembers how to say please and thank you. It’s something he would have taught _her_ —his daughter.

He manages to smile as he takes the clothes and turns toward the bathroom.

The sonic shower is passable. It gets him clean, which is all he can really expect on this shitty planet. He spends as little time as possible in there and avoids looking at himself in the bathroom mirror. He doesn’t need a repeat of the shock he got in the main room.

Reyes’ clothes are really soft, Gil finds. They feel like they were washed in an actual washing machine, not one of those frontier machines that doesn’t use any water. Of course, it probably _was_ one of those machines—way out here on Kadara, that’s probably all they have.

Gil decides he _hates_ this planet. He _hates_ this whole sector. He _hates_ Andromeda.

“Do they fit?” asks Reyes. He looks up just as Gil comes out of the bathroom, running a towel over his hair.

“More or less,” says Gil.

Reyes is chopping something foreign at the counter. It’s bright red and oozing onto the cutting board.

“Animal or vegetable?” asks Gil.

“What?”

Gil points to the rapidly growing puddle.

“Oh… vegetable,” laughs Reyes. “Or...Fruit, maybe?”

Gil takes a few steps closer. The thing has a smell—a nice one.

“It’s sort of like a cross between a carrot and an orange,” says Reyes. He cuts a small piece off one end and shoves it toward Gil’s face.

Gil retracts his head and glares.

“Sorry…” says Reyes. He backs his hand up, but leaves it in the air so Gil can grab the mysterious thing.

Gil warily takes the vegetable/fruit thing and chews it.

“It isn’t half bad,” he says. “I really taste the orange… but not the carrot so much…”

“It’s an aftertaste—just wait,” says Reyes.

Gil swallows and waits. “Hey… you’re right.”

Reyes smiles again— _those fucking dimples_.

“So… the sleeping situation is going to be rather interesting,” says Gil. He’s looked around the room twenty times, but it has just occurred to him that Reyes only has one bed.

Reyes doesn’t look up from the bloody-looking mess of fruit he’s chopping. “I’m going to stay with a friend. You’ll be fine here.”

 _Oh_.

Gil doesn’t know why, but he’s awkwardly disappointed.

“Or will you be _afraid_?” Reyes glances up. Even his eyes are laughing.

Gil smiles. He can’t help it.

It feels odd to smile—to actually think something is funny, even. In fact, it feels like a slap in the face. Why should he ever be allowed to be happy again when his daughter is gone? When Jill is still in that hospital on Eos, probably inconsolable? His expression fades as he considers.

“If you’re _actually_ afraid, I can probably rig some kind of chair/pillow situation and stay,” offers Reyes. He’s squinting now, like he’s actually concerned.

Gil rolls his eyes. “I’m fine… just exhausted.”

“I can imagine,” says Reyes. “Well, if you want to stay up for another twenty minutes, you can eat something… but if you’d rather not—I’ll check on you first thing in the morning.”

Gil nods and turns toward the bed. It’s quite big: it takes up half the room, actually. He guesses that Reyes is rarely alone in that thing. _Whatever._ He just wants to sleep for a year.

He pulls the covers back and sighs. “Thanks again, Reyes.”

“Sure thing. Is there someone I should call for you, Gil?” he asks.

Hearing his own name feels a little strange, but so is this whole thing. He’s about to have a _sleepover_ with a totally random stranger in the ass end of the galaxy.

“Um… you could call my friend Chris… she’s on Havarl…” he says. “I’ll give you the number.”

Reyes rounds the countertop, wiping his hands on a worn cloth. He hands Gil a datapad.

Gil types it in—somewhat under duress—he doesn’t want to talk to her and he _especially_ doesn’t want to see her.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Gil. Get some sleep,” says Reyes.

Gil tucks himself into the smallest corner possible of the bed. It makes no sense since he’s going to be sleeping in it alone, but it feels awkward to stretch out in the middle. It feels presumptuous or exposed or something equally as horrible. He turns onto his side and pulls the covers up high.

The bedding smells like something too—something really nice: a clean, floral scent that is noticeable, but not overpowering. He breathes it in and drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

In the morning, Gil opens his eyes just as the sun is cresting over the horizon outside. That happens early on Kadara. He doesn’t wake _because of_ the sun, though. It’s someone outside and the distinct sound of a lock clicking that actually wakes him up.

Reyes seems like he’s trying to be quiet on his way in the door, but Gil sits up anyway.

“Did you sleep okay?” asks Reyes.

Gil nods. “Thanks again.”

Reyes smiles gently. It’s weird to have a person being so nice to him. He keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Want some coffee?” asks Reyes.

Gil sits on a stool near the counter and nods. “Thanks. I’m basically a dead person before I have coffee.”

That word ‘dead’ doesn’t land like it normally would. Someone who was going to be dear to him just _died_ , after all.

Reyes busies himself with grounds and water while Gil rests his elbows on the countertop.

“So, Gil,” Reyes clears his throat, “what were you doing in that bar?”

Gil doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t even know how to begin.

“...some of my contacts told me that you were around for a few days…” Reyes adds.

“Three days,” Gil corrects. “ _Exactly_ three days.”

Reyes puts two coffee cups down on the counter between them and leans in. “Why?”

Gil still doesn’t answer. He feels like he’s suffocating—water filling his lungs and gurgling down his throat. He realizes, all at once, that he _actually_ can’t breathe—it _isn’t_ a sensation. He stands, suddenly gasping. His hands go numb and his vision blurs. Panic sets in.

 

* * *

 

The next time Gil looks up, he’s sitting on the floor, with his back to Reyes’ bed. His vision filters back in and he notices that Reyes is kneeling right in front of him, looking concerned.

“Gil,” says Reyes. “What happened three days ago?”

Gil blinks.

“Please—let me help you.”

It’s a presumptuous thing to say to a stranger, Gil thinks. It’s presumptuous to assume a stranger _wants_ help and even moreso to assume _you’re_ the answer. But Gil _does_ want help… and Reyes _might_ be the answer, so he decides to tell him.

“My daughter died three... _four_...days ago,” he says.

Reyes’ face falls, a horrified expression takes over. “I’m so sorry.”

Gil shrugs. He doesn’t know how to act. He’s still hoping Reyes has (or is) the magical cure.

“Do you want to lie down?” asks Reyes.

Gil laughs. As if a quick nap is going to fix this.

Reyes bites his lip. “Not that rest is a panacea… I just want to make sure you don’t pass out on me.”

“ _On_ you?” repeats Gil. His mind is basically not working—his grief is pervasive and all he can do is make crude jokes.

Reyes loops an arm under Gil’s shoulders and hoists him up. He lets him fall back gently onto the bed and sits next to him.

“I think we’d better call your friend…” says Reyes. “What’s her last name?”

“Ryder,” answers Gil.

Reyes’ eyes widen. “You’re friends with Chris Ryder?”

Gil shrugs.

“I know her.”

While Reyes steps outside to make the call, Gil lets himself fall backward onto the bed. The blankets are still a mess from where he slept the night before. It’s homey, actually—at least, more like a home than anywhere he’s lived lately. He considers folding himself back into the sheets and going to sleep—maybe rest _is_ the cure—but Reyes comes back inside a minute later.

“She’s going to be here tomorrow,” Reyes announces.

“I’ll just head out then… I’m sure she’ll find me when she gets here,” says Gil. He starts to stand and gather his things—such as they are—but Reyes puts a hand on his shoulder.

“Where are you going?”

Gil shrugs. “I’ll figure it out… I’m an engineer.”

Reyes smiles, but he’s also shaking his head. “Stay here—until Ryder shows up. She would never forgive me if I let something happen to you.”

Gil raises an eyebrow skeptically.

“...that’s what she just said—two minutes ago,” says Reyes.

“Great…” Gil drops his things. “I suppose there’s no point in arguing with the almighty Pathfinder.”

Reyes laughs. “Are you hungry?”

Gil pauses, taking an inventory of his body. “I actually don’t know… I can’t feel… _anything_.”

Reyes looks at him pityingly again. Gil wants to smack him, but he refrains from doing anything aggressive and grinds his teeth instead.

“I guess I could eat… have any more of those carrot-oranges sitting around?” asks Gil.

“No, let’s go out…” Reyes offers. “Let me give you some other clothes.”

 

* * *

 

Dressed in the second borrowed outfit of the last twelve hours, Gil follows Reyes outside.

They wind up in a bar similar to the one he met Reyes in last night, but a little quieter. Gil tries not to look at Reyes as he sits awkwardly next to him at the long counter. They don’t know each other at all, but he knows Gil’s worst secret. It feels horrible.

“Did you work on the Tempest?” asks Reyes, suddenly.

Gil almost spits coffee. “Work on the Tempest?” He cackles. “More like _designed_ the Tempest, _maintained_ the Tempest, and _ran_ the Tempest.”

Reyes laughs. “I stand corrected. You were the chief engineer?”

Gil smiles. “Yes, exactly.”

“I have heard of you,” says Reyes.

Gil squints.

“Not by name… just… Ryder told me she had the best engineer in the galaxy with her.”

“Really? She said that?” asks Gil.

“Yeah… she thinks pretty highly of you, I guess,” Reyes assures him.

Their food arrives and they eat in uncomfortable silence until someone stalks up in between them and shouts.

“Reyes, when are you going to clean up around here?” asks a grouchy, older Krogan. Gil judges his age by the number of scars he has cutting through his face.

“Grent,” says Reyes. “Here with another complaint, I see?”

The angry Krogan—Grent—huffs.

“What do you need this time?” asks Reyes.

“We’ve had three fights this week and one attempted robbery,” answers Grent. “Either you stop it, or I’ll take matters into my own hands.”

Reyes doesn’t exactly roll his eyes, but it’s something close. Gil wonders if all of this is about to get much less friendly, but it doesn’t. Grent stalks away in the same fashion he arrived and it’s, seemingly, over.

“Ahh, Kadara,” says Reyes. He laughs into his coffee cup.

“People threaten you frequently?”

Reyes nods. “It comes with the territory…”

“What exactly do you do?” asks Gil.

Reyes laughs again. “Same as you—I fix things.”

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple people have asked if this story is related to "In the Morning"... the answer is 'not officially'. But it _sort of_ is... in that it has basically the same characters. I guess, imagine a scenario where Gil didn't meet Scott in the hospital in **In the Morning** and you've got this story. :) 
> 
> Thank you for all the comments and messages. You are all great!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although Gil doesn't feel like he deserves it, Reyes won't leave him alone all day... or all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is when the story starts to get sweet, I think. :) Thanks for all the love so far.

* * *

By the time night falls, Gil finds himself in another bar, but he isn’t alone this time. Reyes took his entire day to babysit him, which he would normally find embarrassing. Right now, he can’t feel anything but gratitude. It feels better not to be alone.

“So then Ryder comes barreling back in that stupid car…” says Reyes. He’s laughing so hard he has tears in his eyes.

Gil interrupts him. “That _stupid_ car is called the Nomad! It’s a very advanced piece of tech.”

Reyes laughs even harder. “I suppose it has something to do with _your_ expertise, then?”

Gil snorts. “Yes… I suppose. Continue.”

“So Ryder rolls up to the gates and jumps out. She’s got that Angaran with her—”

Gil interrupts again, “His name is Jaal.”

“Okay…” Reyes rolls his eyes, but it’s not an annoyed expression. He’s still smiling. “So Jaal and Ryder jump out of the car and that other woman is with them… Peebee?”

Gil nods.

“Ryder stalks up to my door and yells for me. I have no idea what’s going on, but I can tell she’s pissed,” continues Reyes. “It isn’t until I get up close to her that I realize she’s _covered_ in radioactive mud.”

Gil’s eyes widen.

“So she’s blaming me for sending her out there and swearing like a smuggler,” laughs Reyes. “And all Peebee and I can do is try not to laugh, because she’s this _tiny_ little person, but she’s _screaming_.”

“That sounds like her.”

“Yeah… so eventually we got her cleaned off and no harm done because she was wearing a chemically resistant suit… but Stars… it was so funny.”

Gil and Reyes sigh together. Talking about Chris is easier than talking about anything else. She’s a character—hilarity follows her.

“I didn’t know her first name, actually,” admits Reyes.

Gil turns his head to look at him. “Really?”

“Yeah… she seems like a last-name kind of person,” says Reyes. He swallows the rest of his beer (or what masquerades as beer around here) in one gulp.

“She is, actually,” says Gil. But she isn’t to him. To him, she’s Chris—she’s one of the only people in the world he’s ever let in. He knows he shouldn't be angry at her—nothing was her fault—but he still is.

“So what else?” says Reyes. He rotates on his stool so he and Gil are face to face. Their knees bump. “Tell me about your life before.”

Gil shrugs. “There isn’t much to tell.”

“...evasive…”

“Yes, I suppose…” Gil laughs, but not hard.

“Did you always know you wanted to come to Andromeda?” asks Reyes.

“Always? No,” answers Gil. “But for a long time… I thought it would be a fresh start. I thought I’d be someone new here.”

Reyes’ face falls. “I’m sorry I brought that up.”

Gil shakes his head. “It’s okay. _Everything_ reminds me—this is no more painful than anything else.”

 

* * *

 

Back at Reyes’ house that night, Gil remembers his clothes.

“Do you have some kind of a place where I can wash my other clothes?” he asks. “I appreciate the loaners, but I think I’m a little broader than you are,” he teases.

Reyes laughs. “We’ll have to do a comparison later.”

Gil doesn’t wonder what he means. In the last twenty-four hours, he’s learned that for Reyes, flirting is just a reflex.

“I have a sonic machine—just outside,” answers Reyes. “You can use it if you want.”

Gil takes his disgusting clothes outside onto a makeshift porch where he finds the machine. It’s sitting crookedly, like an afterthought, but at least it’s there. As he loads the clothes and pushes buttons, the beeping terrifies him. He remembers the monitors in the hospital. He remembers Jill’s tear worn face. He remembers her broken, choking words: ‘You should have been here.’

Gil startles when there’s a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Reyes pulls his hand back, like Gil is on fire. “Are you okay?”

Gil looks up. “No. Not even a little.”

“I was just going to ask if you needed anything… I’m going to find another friend to take advantage of so you can stay here,” says Reyes.

Gil has a guttural urge to argue. He almost asks Reyes to sleep with him. He feels like he needs a security blanket.

“I’m all set. Thank you,” says Gil, in direction opposition to his instincts.

Reyes smiles. “I’m going to call some people…”

Gil goes through the rest of the painful experience of washing his clothes and trudges back inside. Reyes is standing in the middle of the room, running his hand through his hair.

“Yeah… I understand…” he says. “The next time _you_ need a favor, I’m going to remember this.”

Gil intuits the conversation: someone won’t let Reyes stay with them.

“I’m kidding… have a good night—say hi to everyone,” says Reyes. He hangs up and looks at Gil. “So… nobody is really around tonight.”

Gil looks at the bed, then back at Reyes. “It’s okay. I’m just going to pass out anyway. Just ignore me.”

Reyes looks skeptical.

“You’re not really my type,” Gil lies. Reyes is exactly his type—tall, dark, and unpredictable.

Reyes laughs, though. “All right—sleepover, it is.” He goes into the bathroom, presumably to change, leaving Gil alone in the middle of the room.

There’s a strange whirring sound in the apartment. Gil didn’t notice it last night. He’s not sure if that was a function of his level of inebriation or his pervasive sadness, but he notices it now. He looks around, trying to discern its source.

“You okay?” asks Reyes.

If he asks that one more time Gil might _actually_ hit him.

“What’s that sound?”

“Oh. That’s the sound of Kadara,” says Reyes. He’s smiling like he has a secret.

“That’s bloody annoying,” comments Gil. He _means_ the way that Reyes keeps _not_ answering him, but it applies to the sound too.

“I guess it is… you get used to it,” says Reyes. He walks to the left side of the bed and pulls the covers back.

Gil mirrors him awkwardly. He’s relieved when Reyes turns off the light.

“Ryder will probably be here before we get up,” comments Reyes.

“Yeah… maybe,” says Gil. He doubts he’ll really sleep. He did last night, but only out of desperation.

“Well… good night,” says Reyes. He turns onto his side, facing away from Gil.

As soon as he’s supposed to be sleeping, Gil can’t seem to calm down. He finds himself fidgeting with the blankets and microadjusting his pillow. He becomes more compulsive every second.

“Are you going to keep moving around all night?” asks Reyes suddenly. He turns over to face Gil and smirks.

“Sorry…”

Reyes laughs. “It’s fine… get yourself sorted and then we can try this sleeping thing again.”

Gil hesitates.

“Or… whatever…” amends Reyes. “We can talk, if you’d rather.”

Gil would _not_ rather. He’d rather not use any words ever again.

Reyes sighs. “I'm sorry, Gil…”

“For what?”

“I'm terrible at this,” says Reyes. “I don't know how to be.”

“Neither do I,” admits Gil.

“Then let's not lie here in the dark. Let’s get up,” says Reyes. He snaps the light back on and jumps out of bed. “You like to go fast, right?”

Gil squints. _What does that mean?_

“Because I have a really fast something you might like to play with…” adds Reyes.

“Is that a euphemism?”

Reyes raises an eyebrow for a second, but he can’t sustain it. He laughs. “No. It’s a bike.”

Gil’s interest is piqued. “Okay, let’s see it.”

 

* * *

 

Outside, they duck into what poses as a garage on this planet. Reyes throws back a tarp. A puff of dust blinds Gil. He coughs. But as the dust settles, he sees it.

“That is magnificent,” says Gil. He’s not kidding either, this is a perfect reproduction of a late 20th century Ducati Scrambler.

“Thanks.” Reyes beams with pride.

“Where—” Gil reaches out to lay a palm on the seat. “How—”

Reyes laughs. “You like her?”

“Stars, Reyes… how did do this? There’s no way you brought it over with you… you must have fabricated these parts yourself,” says Gil.

Reyes is smiling from ear to ear.

“I mean… did you actually make each part individually?”

Reyes nods. “According to historical specs.”

“This is impressive…” Gil runs his hand across the handlebars.

“So… do you want to take her out for a ride?” asks Reyes.

“Yes.”

He wonders if he’s going to end up riding bitch on this one, but Reyes starts to explain the throttle to him, so it seems he’ll be driving. He almost asks Reyes to come with him. He imagines—just for a second—what it would feel like to have Reyes pressed up against his back, arms around his waist, but he doesn’t ask.

“I’ll wait right here,” says Reyes.

Gil kicks the stand out and takes off. He doesn’t even bother with a helmet, which is rather stupid, considering where he is and the level of emotional decay he’s experienced in the last four days.

As soon as he gets outside the walls, he accelerates. He pushes the engine and kicks up sand. It’s pitch black outside now, so he follows the starlight and eventually ends up on a steep gradient. It can _do_ it, though. It’s expertly made; he can tell.

At the top of the gradient, he almost wipes out. The hill changes directions rather suddenly—on a point, not a slope. He skids to a stop sideways and finds himself gasping. In the silence that follows, he yells.

“Fuck you, Andromeda!” It feels good to get angry, even if it’s futile.

...and short-lived. There’s nothing else to do but go back.

 

* * *

 

“How long did it take you to make this?” asks Gil. He’s breathless and his hair is going in every direction when he finally gets back to Reyes’ apartment.

“I’ve been working on it since I got here,” answers Reyes. He rolls the bike back into its spot and covers it with the tarp.

“You did a really amazing job,” says Gil.

They smile at each other silently for a minute. Now that they’ve done this and it’s still the middle of the night, Gil feels awkward again.

“What now?” asks Reyes.

Gil shrugs. “Back to the apartment?”

Reyes nods and they parade back upstairs. They don’t attempt to go to bed again, though. Gil is glad because trying to sleep when Chris is on her way seems futile. He’s so furious with her, he can’t stand it. He chews the inside of his lip.

“So… why are you angry at Chris?” asks Reyes.

Gil blinks. “Who says I’m angry at her?”

Reyes lifts his left eyebrow skeptically.

“I’m that obvious, huh?”

Reyes smiles.

“It’s… I don’t know how to tell you without telling you a very long, horrible story,” admits Gil.

Reyes sits on the bed and pats it so Gil will sit next to him. “We have all night.”

Gil hesitates.

“I think it will make you feel better… maybe…just to get it out,” adds Reyes.

Gil resents the implication that talking will make any difference. His daughter is _dead_. Nothing will _ever_ make that better. But still, all of Reyes’ other suggestions today actually _have_ helped, despite the implausibility of such a thing. Under duress, he sits.

“So… my friend Jill and I decided to have a baby together...” he begins.

Reyes listens while he explains the gut wrenching difficulty of making the decision to become a father. How much he wished he had someone to raise a child with him—a husband—but that Jill would be a wonderful mother… _would have been_.

Reyes listens while he discusses the pregnancy. His work became a constant point of contention, but it was too late to turn back. Gil tried not to feel guilty every time he had to follow Chris into ‘territories unknown’ for ‘dictators undeserving’.

Reyes listens while he explains the fights and yelling that he hoped his daughter wouldn’t internalize en utero.

...and he listens while Gil explains her death.

“Jill called on vidcom to tell me it was time,” says Gil. “She was excited and _scared_. I could tell.”

Reyes nods.

“The doctors assured her it would be another eight or ten hours, but she had a bad feeling—something she couldn’t quite define,” continues Gil. “...and Chris was getting pressure from the Nexus to do _one more thing_ … And I love Chris…”

Reyes bites his bottom lip. It’s clear to Gil that he can already see the writing on the wall—the writing _he_ should have seen himself.

“...so I told Jill there would be time. I told her I’d get there as soon as I could,” says Gil. The words catch in his throat. “Chris said she needed me… and that she’d get me there in time… and I believed her…”

Reyes reaches out to put a hand on Gil’s shoulder. It’s more than Gil would normally let a stranger do—it’s more than he’d let a confidant do, actually—but he leans into it. It feels like a lifeline.

“And when we finally got there—six hours later than Chris _promised_ me we would—Meri was already gone.” Gil’s voice breaks and he feels tears in his eyes. It’s the first time he’s cried since this all began… and now that it has started he can’t stop. He cries until he has no more tears.

...and all the while, Reyes stays with him in the big bed. He shushes and coos and eventually tucks him into the covers, but he never stops gently touching his shoulder or his face or his hair. He soothes him like Gil would have soothed his daughter… and _that’s_ the part that makes Gil cry the hardest.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chris is on her way... duh duh duh!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris Ryder shows up to collect Gil from Kadara.

* * *

Before Gil knows it, it’s morning. He knows he actually slept because of how bleary his eyes are, but it can’t have been long. He doesn’t remember the actual process of falling asleep. While he’s still trying to figure it out, he realizes he’s completely smashed against Reyes in the big bed. His whole body is in the negative space of Reyes’ torso—spoons side by side.

The most horrifying part is that he doesn’t dislike it at all. He considers closing his eyes and going back to sleep. He considers pulling Reyes’ arm more tightly against his chest. He _considers_ turning over and kissing him.

...but he doesn’t do any of that. Instead, he extricates himself from Reyes’ grasp and stands up. His first few steps are wobbly, but he manages to get into the bathroom and close the door.

His reflection isn’t so horrible today. He’s starting to look like himself again—his hair is still crazy and his stubble has become more of a full-fledged beard, but he looks _alive_.

Just then, Reyes calls through the door. “Are you okay, Gil?”

“Stop asking that,” Gil shouts back. He doesn’t mean it, though. It’s just a leftover from the outrage he had yesterday. Today, he just wants to hug Reyes until he knows _how much_ last night meant to him.

Reyes laughs. “Okay. I’m going to make coffee.”

Gil washes his face and tries to tame his hair before going back out into the apartment.

 

“You look better this morning,” says Reyes. It’s definitely _not_ flirting; it’s just a comment—and it happens to be true.

“Thank you,” says Gil. “I feel a little better too… I guess you were right.”

Reyes smiles without looking up from the coffee maker.

“Chris is probably almost here, huh?” asks Gil. He sits on his usual stool. (At least, it _feels_ usual… he’s been in this apartment for a long time now.)

“Probably… she said she would call when she lands,” says Reyes.

Gil nods.

“Do you have anything you want to do before she gets here?” asks Reyes.

Gil suppresses a laugh.

“What?” Reyes smirks.

“Nothing.  You’ve been _way_ too nice to me,” says Gil.

Reyes nods. It’s a confusing thing to do because it doesn’t mean anything definitive. Does he _agree_ that he’s been too nice or is he just having an involuntary twitch?

Gil tries not to let it bother him and takes a sip of his coffee. It’s terrible, actually. It was yesterday morning too, but he was too sad to notice.

“This coffee is almost as bad as the sludge we have on the Tempest,” he comments.

Reyes laughs. “I know, right? Stars, it’s horrendous.”

Gil smiles into his cup. He’s about to say something else… like ‘sometime, you should come see the Tempest…’ but a call interrupts them.

“Yes. He’s right here… at my place,” says Reyes. He smiles at Gil as he’s talking. “Come right over. We’re ready… more or less.” He hangs up.

“Ryder, right?” asks Gil.

Reyes nods. “Do you need to gather anything?”

Gil looks around. “Not really. I grabbed my clothes out of the dryer last night… and that’s pretty much all I had with me.”

They look at each other in silence.

“Thank you… for letting me stay here,” says Gil. “It was far more than you had to do.”

Reyes steps out from behind the counter. He’s alarmingly close to Gil, but it feels good. For a minute, Gil thinks he’s going to kiss him, but it doesn’t happen. Instead, he wraps his arms around him and pulls him in.

“You’re a stronger man than I am,” says Reyes. “You’re going to get through this.”

The hug isn’t romantic—if anything it’s _fraternal_ —but Gil has never felt so supported or loved. He could cry again.

“Thanks…” he whispers.

           

There’s a knock on the door before Gil feels ready to let go of Reyes. Of course, he probably could have held onto him until the sun set, so it’s relative. Nevertheless, he lets him go hesitantly.

Chris spills into the room. She had the wherewithal to come alone. He might have broken down if she had Peebee and Jaal in tow.

“Gil,” she breathes.

“Chris…”

She crosses the room in two steps and throws her arms around his waist. She’s so small, she doesn’t even reach his shoulder, but her presence is big. It feels like she’s filling up the whole room with her remorse. He _should_ forgive her—it wasn’t her fault—but he doesn’t know how.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers. Her voice is muffled by the fabric of his shirt, but he hears her. She sounds _so_ sincere.

“It’s okay… we will get through this,” he hears himself saying. It’s funny because it’s the first positive thing he’s had to say on the subject. It feels like Reyes might have fixed him after all.

Chris looks up at him with tears in her eyes. “I love you, Gil.”

“I love you too.” He manages to smile. “All right… let’s go.” He turns to Reyes. “Thank you again…”

“Thanks, Reyes,” adds Chris.

“You’re welcome… and… Gil,” Reyes hands Gil a little scrap of paper. “If you ever need someone to talk to…” He looks at Chris, “And the _Pathfinder_ is too busy….” They both laugh. “Get in touch with me.”

Gil decides right then that he will.

 

* * *

 

...but two weeks later, Gil hasn’t so much as sent an email. He wants to, but he keeps stopping himself.

One evening, he’s wandering through the hall when he overhears an argument in progress. Alarmingly, it’s Jaal and Chris… Gil has never heard them fight before.

He freezes in the hallway outside the kitchen and listens, even though he knows he shouldn’t.

“I don’t understand what you want from me,” says Chris. She’s exasperated.

“I want you to be honest with me,” he says. “Are you tired of this relationship?”

 _Stars. This doesn’t sound good_.

“Honestly—” Chris interrupts herself and huffs a few times. “Honestly, I don’t know.”

Jaal exhales audibly. “I see.”

“Jaal…” she says, “I’m not saying that I’m done… I’m not saying anything—I’m just saying that I don’t know what I need right now!”

Jaal says something Gil can’t understand and promptly leaves the room. He’s walking so fast and with so much intention that he almost runs into Gil in the hallway. They exchange an awkward look of understanding.

“You should talk to her,” he says.

Gil nods, but he isn’t sure what to say. Nevertheless, he goes around the corner.

“Hey…” he says. Warily, he leans against the counter near her.

“I suppose you heard all that,” she says.

He nods. “I didn’t hear the beginning, though… so I don’t understand how you got here.”

“Neither do I,” she admits.

They sigh together.

“I think it happened in small ways, actually… one day something little happened and we ignored it… and then it snowballed.”

He squints at her. Heretofore, he hasn’t heard of a single fight they’ve ever had. Maybe he was so wrapped up in everything going on with Jill that he didn’t think to ask.

“What can I do for you?” he asks.

She shrugs. “Want to get drunk?”

He laughs. “Always.”

They grab a bottle of the expensive stuff and run down the hallway to her room. Inside, she locks the door and tells SAM not to bother them.

She flops onto the bed and motions for Gil to lie with her.

 

* * *

 

Two hours later, they’re a mess, lying crookedly across the bed, side by side. She’s sobbing.

“I just don’t know what to do,” she cries.

Gil doesn’t look at her, but he grabs her hand between them and holds it. She doesn’t like to be coddled, but he feels like she needs _something_ reassuring.

“...and I feel like an ass for even being upset about this,” she adds.

That makes him roll his head toward her. “Why do you say that?”

She bites her bottom lip. “Because you've been through _so much_ _worse._ ”

_Oh._

“...it feels wrong that this should even enter into the equation,” she finishes.

He shakes his head against the blankets. “You’re still allowed to be sad, Chris… it’s not a competition. In fact, we can both be fucking ruined if we want to.”

She smiles in the midst of even more tears falling down her face.

“You’re not ruined, Gil,” she says.

He looks back up at the ceiling. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah… I’m sure.”

“Well… either way, Chris,” he clears his throat. “Everything is going to look better in the morning. I promise.”

Chris falls asleep an hour later with her head on his shoulder. He doesn’t look, but he can tell from the way her breathing has changed. When his arm is starting to go numb, he gently stands up and tucks her into bed.

“Good night, Chris,” he whispers, kissing her head.

He imagines his daughter as a young woman… getting her heart broken for the first time. He would have kissed her head like that too.

All the way back to his bunk in engineering, he tries not to think about the stages she would have gone through—learning to walk, losing her front teeth, science fairs and school dances, graduating… It isn’t until he actually makes it to his room that he manages to shake the grief. There’s a blinking light at his terminal. It’s an email.

 

* * *

 

_Gil,_

_I ran into a drunk, sad guy in a bar today… and put him in holding for a few hours… he dried out a lot more easily than you did. Just wanted to see how you are. Call me sometime._

_Reyes_.

    

* * *

       

Gil smiles when he reads the letter—more broadly the second time through. He isn’t sure what to do _now,_ though. Reyes says to call… but he’d rather send an email… is that cowardly? He eventually decides to call, despite his nerves.

The line beeps a few times. He almost hangs up.

“Hello?” answers Reyes.

“Uh… hi,” Gil laughs awkwardly. “It’s Gil…”

“I know… your name came up…”

“Oh… right,” Gil laughs again. “I got your email.”

“Yeah… I figured. How are you doing?”

“Um…” Gil isn’t sure. “I’m drunk.”

“Again?”

He’s so glad Reyes can’t see him. He’s blushing like crazy. “Yeah, but this time it isn’t my fault. I did it for a friend.”

“For Ryder?” asks Reyes.

“You’re perceptive…”

“No… she’s just the only person you’ve ever mentioned as a friend,” teases Reyes.

“Ouch… you’re salty tonight.” As soon as he says that, he starts thinking about the possibility of double entendre. _Whoops_.

“So do you want to get together sometime?” asks Reyes suddenly.

“Uh… yeah… I mean… that might be fun,” says Gil.

“Okay—when are you going to be on Kadara again?”

“Um… I’m not sure…” answers Gil. “It depends when Chris can spare the trip…”

Reyes makes a noncommittal sound.

“But I’ll ask her… and… maybe we could just chat sometimes—until then,” adds Gil. He feels stupid saying it like this, but it happens. He blames the alcohol.

“Okay, Gil—I’ll talk to you soon, then.”

They hang up and Gil flops backward onto his bed. The room is spinning slightly, but the feeling that’s spreading across his chest isn’t drunkenness—it’s something else entirely… something _good_.

* * *

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil keeps trying to reach out, but stopping himself. Luckily, Reyes is a little braver.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW content below... _finally_...

* * *

_~~Hi Reyes,~~ _

__

_~~How’s life?~~ _

 

Gil sighs at himself and erases the beginning of the message. He can’t seem to stop writing terrible beginnings. It’s been three days since he told Reyes he’d contact him, but he hasn’t been successful yet. To be fair, Reyes hasn’t contacted him either, so maybe the whole thing is fucked. He can’t tell.

Making everything more complex is Chris and Jaal’s unceremonious breakup. That’s definitely what it is now… a full-on breakup. After that first fight, Chris told Jaal she isn’t ready to be in this serious of a relationship. Of course, she didn’t say it that nicely—she actually used the words ‘trapped’ and ‘confining.’ It wasn’t her best moment.

Either way, they aren’t speaking right now. Jaal is handling the whole thing expertly, of course. He’s been kind and cordial to everyone, including Chris herself, but she is a mess. She’s irritable and stressed and sharp. Gil doesn’t dare ask her for a favor—especially one that requires a detour all the way to Kadara.

So he’s trying to make himself useful around the ship. He’s already fixed the air purification system. Lately, it had been whirring annoyingly at all hours of the night. Now it’s quiet as can be. He has also made some tweaks to the Nomad that are going to make it easier to hover when going over small hills. It still won’t do well if Chris launches it off a cliff, but it’s something.

The only thing he can’t seem to do is write this stupid email. He tries again.

 

_~~Reyes,~~ _

__

_~~Sorry it took me a few days to get in touch. I’ve been really busy around the ship.~~ _

 

 _No_. That’s garbage. He drops his elbow on the edge of his console and sighs. Why is this so hard?

Just then, the console beeps. He’s _received_ something. It’s just two lines, but his face cracks into a smile as soon as he sees the sender.

 

_Gil,_

_I guess you must be busy out there… just checking in._

_Reyes_

 

He wants to write back immediately, but it feels desperate, so he forces himself to wait. Then he has an idea. He calls Reyes.

“Hey,” says Reyes. “Did you get my email?”

“What? No…” lies Gil. “I just finally had a second to sit down and call you. You sent me an email?”

Reyes laughs. “Yeah… you just opened it two minutes ago…”

 _Shit_.

“Okay, yeah, I got your email…” he admits. “I didn’t want to seem eager.”

“Are you? _Eager_?”

Gil laughs. “A little.”

“So are you coming to Kadara then?” asks Reyes.

Gil sighs. “I doubt it. Things are really tense on my end. Chris and Jaal are having problems.” He pushes the earpiece deeper into his ear and flops backward onto his bed.

“Really?”

“Yeah… they’re in the slow, painful process of breaking up,” he explains. “I still don’t really understand why… neither do _they_ , actually.”

“That sounds like a mess,” comments Reyes.

“It is…”

They sigh together.

“So how are _you_?” asks Reyes.

“I’m…” He decides not to lie. “I’m actually kind of okay—some of the time.”

“That’s better than _I_ would be…” says Reyes. “See? You’re so strong.”

Gil has that warm feeling again. It hurts in the best way possible.

“How’s everything there?” asks Gil.

“Eh… it’s Kadara… so shitty and perfect.”

Gil laughs. “That is the best way to describe it. Everything is in shambles… but you built your bike out there…”

“Yeah… speaking of which, I have been wanting to try out a new accelerator I just fabricated…” says Reyes. “If you were here… you could help me test it.”

Gil groans. “I would love to… I just… I’m not sure when I’ll be in the area.”

“It’s okay—I can wait for you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah… I think it would be more fun _with_ you.”

“Okay—well, I guess I’d better try to get Chris handled sooner rather than later…” says Gil.

“Great. Well, I’d better go…” says Reyes.

Gil’s face falls. “Do you _have to_?”

Reyes laughs, “Well… I suppose not… but I’m going to be tired tomorrow…”

“Well… do whatever you want, I guess,” says Gil. He regrets this whole conversation. He doesn’t even remember what his _point_ was.

“I’ll stay… if you tell me something about yourself…” says Reyes. “Something secret.”

Gil laughs. “Um… I’m not sure…”

“Okay, or… I’ll ask you something… but you have to be honest,” offers Reyes.

“All right.” Gil pulls his shirt off over his head and kicks his pants away so he can settle more deeply into his bed. He always sleeps naked, but something about being naked while he’s on the phone with Reyes seems weird, so he leaves his underwear on.

“Tell me one unusual thing you like in bed,” says Reyes.

Gil laughs. “Really?”

“Yes, really. You _promised_ ,” says Reyes. “I’m giving up precious sleep for this.”

“Okay… fine,” says Gil. He rolls his eyes like this is all a chore, but actually, he wants to do more than _talk_ about sex… he finds that he’s already sort of hard. “Um… I like to be watched—while I’m getting off… I like it even better if the person watching _can’t_ do anything about it…”

Reyes hums.

“Does that mean you agree or are you _judging_ me?”

“I’m not judging,” says Reyes.

“Evasive…”

“Yeah, it’s my thing,” laughs Reyes. “Your turn.”

Gil didn’t realize he was allowed to ask questions too. Now he’s nervous… and his dick feels scratchy against the inside of his boxers. “Do you have sex with men?” he asks.

Reyes coughs. “Yes. I have sex with men. You get a do-over for that one… what did you _think_ was happening here?”

Gil bites his bottom lip and smiles at the ceiling of his bunk. “I just wanted to make _sure_ …”

“Okay. I’m ready for a _real_ question,” says Reyes.

“All right… would you rather be forced to have sex without any lube or never receive a blow job again?”

“Stars… that’s a _horrible_ dichotomy.” Reyes sighs. “I think I’d rather have sex without lube. We could use spit, right?”

“ _We_?”

Reyes laughs. “The people in the example…”

“Yeah… _we_ could,” says Gil. “Your turn.”

“Are you hard right now?” asks Reyes. His voice is low and gravely. It only accentuates his normal accent.

Gil hesitates.

“C’mon… you said you would be honest.”

“I’m unbelievably hard,” whispers Gil.

“And are you touching yourself?” asks Reyes.

“It’s not your turn to ask,” says Gil.

Reyes groans.

“Are you dressed?” asks Gil.

“No. are you?”

“No…” Gil snakes his right hand down his abdomen and under the elastic of his underwear. He's leaking all over himself. “Are you right or left handed?”

Reyes laughs. “Left.”

“I had a feeling about that,” says Gil.

“Oh yeah?” asks Reyes. Some sounds on the line make Gil wonder what he's doing—shifting around?

“Yeah… I noticed how strong your left forearm was when we were together in your bed.”

Reyes groans softly. “...together in bed. Don't you wish we were both in my bed right now?”

Gil gasps. This is the moment of truth. He's either going to be _totally_ transparent and admit he has his dick in hand, imagining Reyes is here with him, or he's going to run scared.

“Reyes,” says Gil suddenly. “There's some kind of emergency alarm going off. I have to go.”

_Cowardly it is._

Without waiting for a response, he hangs up and rips the receiver out of his ear, cursing himself. Of course, his dick didn't get the memo and he's left with an aching erection.

 _Seems a pity to waste it_.

He slides his underwear off and turns out all the lights before taking himself in hand. He rubs from root to tip, in slow gentle circles until he's panting and sweating. His mind conjures visions of Reyes spread out on his stomach, his ass in the air, begging to be fucked in broken syllables.

And before he knows it, he comes—hot and sticky against his stomach.

 _This is a mess_ … _mostly an emotional one_.

* * *

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil deals with the awkwardness from hanging up on Reyes the other night, thinks about calling Jill, and plans a trip. Things are not exactly as he expected.

* * *

It takes Gil a few days to recover from his embarrassment. He busies himself with work to keep from rehashing the way he hung up on Reyes. It was cowardly and it makes getting in touch again exceedingly awkward. Of course, letting all these days pass isn’t helping in the awkwardness department either, so he’s in a cycle now. At this rate, they’ll never speak again.

_Ugh._

Unfortunately, nothing positive has happened on the Jaal/Chris front either. He heard her crying in her room yesterday and knocked, but she didn’t let him in. Chris doesn’t like to be _visibly_ vulnerable, so their drunken sobbing fest the other night didn’t do anything good for their relationship. It’s a little like Jill, actually.

His mind hitches. The one person he has not contacted at all—hasn’t even _considered_ contacting—is Jill. It’s mad because she was the mother of his child… she was _going to be_ … and she has been his best friend since they were young… but he can’t think of a single thing to say. How does one address the death of a daughter with the woman who carried her? It would be one thing if they were a couple—he could wrap her in his arms and kiss her until they both started to forget in the haze of arousal… over time that _might_ help… but that isn’t what they are to each other—it’s not even the vaguest possibility.

For the first time since he discovered he liked boys, he almost _wishes_ he could muster those feelings for Jill. _Almost_.

He shakes his head, trying to clear it. He isn’t ready to think about Jill yet. He isn’t ready to imagine the conversations they need to have. He just isn’t _ready_.

...and maybe that’s what this Reyes thing is… something _safer_ to obsess about.

 

* * *

 

Around the corner, in the kitchen, he runs into Chris. She looks exhausted.

“Hey, Gil,” she says nonchalantly. She pours herself some of that coffee sludge she always drinks and sits roughly. The leg of her chair scrapes the floor gratingly.

“Hi,” he says. “How _are_ you?”

She shakes her head. “Let’s _not_.”

He nods understandingly.

“Hey—I meant to ask you… did you need to do something on Kadara?” she asks.

“What?”

“I got a message from Kadara saying you were needed for some kind of mechanical engineering/transportation research,” she says. “...from Reyes.”

Gil _tries_ not to let it show, but heat spreads across his chest and neck so fast he’s helpless to do anything to stop it. He can feel how red his face probably is.

“Oh no,” she says, laughing. “Stars! _No_!”

Gil shrugs. “It’s nothing—just a bike he built… it’s really quite a marvel… he put the pieces together from historical records, using whatever scrap he could find…”

“Yeah… I’m sure that’s _all_ it is…” deadpans Chris.

“Stop it,” laughs Gil.

Chris sighs. “I’m sorry… it’s just…” she puts her hand on his knee. “It’s so nice to see you laughing.”

He smiles.

“And if Reyes is going to bring out this side of you… let’s go all the way out to Kadara… we haven’t got anything better to do... it’s not like the galaxy needs us or anything...” she says.

“Okay…” he bites his lip. “Thanks.”

 

* * *

 

It takes a couple days to get to Kadara, so Gil has time to waste. He spends it sorting out his physical appearance. He gets Peebee to cut his hair. Ironically, she’s great with a pair of cutting shears, despite her own lack of follicles. He doesn’t let her do anything to his beard. He has decided that he likes it fuller.

When he’s finished that, he spends time pretending to be busy all over the ship. He finishes a week’s worth of side projects in a day and still has time left over. Finally, he decides to call Reyes—just to warn him he’s coming.

“Hello?” answers Reyes.

“Hi… it’s Gil.”

“How are you?” asks Reyes.

“Um… good… I just wanted to tell you that we’re heading your way… we’ll be there tomorrow,” he offers.

Reyes makes an insouciant sound.

“...and I thought you might want to get together…” adds Gil. Reyes isn’t eager like he was the other night. Maybe he’s mad about all that…

“I’m not sure I’ll be around, actually,” says Reyes.

“Oh…”

“Call me when you touch down and we’ll see…” He clears his throat. There’s a lot of shifting and whirring in the background. “I’ve gotta go…”

“Okay… bye…” mumbles Gil.

“Uh huh…” Reyes hangs up.

_… that went well._

Gil sits on the side of his bed and runs through the conversation in his head. They were fine… until they _weren’t_. He sighs and pouts just in time for Chris to come into engineering and catch him. He thinks about hiding it, but he isn’t sure what the point is.

“Hey… what’s going on?” she asks.

He shrugs. “I called Reyes… to tell him we’re going to be there tomorrow… but he was really weird about it.”

Chris sits next to him on his bunk.

“I actually don’t know why I thought he’d be so into it… I was kind of weird the last time we talked,” admits Gil.

“What did you say?”

He laughs. “We were having a sort of... _adult_...conversation and I got weirded out and hung up on him…”

She snorts.

“Yeah, yeah—laugh it up.” He rumples her hair.

“I’m sorry, Gil…” she drops her hand on his knee. “Maybe he was just tired or busy—don’t make any decisions until we get there and see, okay?”

He nods.

“All right… want to watch a vid with me? I’m all alone and I’d rather do that than _sob_ …” she says flippantly.

He laughs, even though it isn’t funny—they’re good at finding humor in the depressing.

“After you…”

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Gil wakes up well before his alarm is scheduled to go off. This always happens to him when he’s nervous. In college, he used to wake up in the wee hours of the morning on exam days. Seeing Reyes is a little like a test, isn’t it? He’s a person who is going to try to determine if Gil is worth anything… maybe…

He wanders down the hall to the kitchen. At this time, no one is up. Occasionally, he’ll run into Chris—but only if she’s still up from the night before. She tends to overwork.

The coffee is just as terrible as ever, but he relishes it. He’s remembering the way Reyes looked in his kitchen, pouring over his coffee pot. He looked _paternal_ , really. The thought stabs through his chest and he crumples into a metal chair. Based on the way he rescued Gil and the way he refused to give up on him, Reyes would be a _great_ father, he realizes—just like Gil _could have been_.

 _Just when he thinks he’s getting better... healing... Fuck_.

An announcement rings out through the ship—with a fair amount of feedback. He’ll have to look into that later.

 _We’ll be within docking range of Kadara in twenty minutes_.

Gil wrings his hands nervously. It’s stupid to be this wound up about it. He wishes he could turn it off.

 

* * *

 

Down on the surface, nothing seems exactly right. He’s used to seeing lots of vagrancy… the streets are eerily bare. Gil managed to sneak off on his own, but now he wishes he’d asked Chris to come with him. Something feels _off_.

“Hey,” barks someone in a hood.

Gil jumps.

“What’s your business?” asks the hood.

“I’m meeting someone,” Gil lies, “What’s it to you?” It comes out a little sharper than it probably should, but he has a temper and lately—after everything he’s been through—it’s hard to keep it in check when he’s stressed.

“No one’s going into the bar tonight,” the hood barks.

It’s starting to really unnerve Gil that he can’t see this person’s face. He cocks his head to the side and squints.

“Are _you_ going to stop me?” asks Gil. It’s a bit of a threat, but he has a head and probably thirty pounds on this guy.

“No, but _I_ am,” says another voice. _This_ one, he recognizes. It’s Reyes.

Gil whirls. “What are you doing here?”

Reyes glares at him from the shadows. “Shut up, Gil.”

Gil wants to argue, but the look on Reyes’ face tells him he really shouldn’t. He nods mutely.

Reyes waves the other person away. Gil still never gets to see his face.

* * *

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil discovers what's going on with Reyes and things escalate quickly... but _not_ in the way Gil is expecting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally... some actual sex. thank the stars.

* * *

“What the hell are you doing here?” growls Reyes.

On the way to the apartment, Gil didn’t say a word. He _wanted_ to; he had several highly developed conversations with himself, but he had a feeling that voicing them would be unforgivable.

“I told you I was coming,” he manages. “Just _yesterday_ , in fact.”

“And I told _you_ to call me first,” says Reyes angrily.

They’re at a bit of an impasse. Gil wants to sit down, but he hasn’t been invited and it feels strange to do it, even though he _slept_ here just a month ago… even though he pictured Reyes _fucking himself_ here just the other day. Actually, maybe all of that is _hurting_ , not helping.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t realize that _something_ was going on…” says Gil. “I thought you were just… unhappy with me… about the other day.”

Reyes’ face changes—a sort of smirk replaces his grimace. It’s a _start_ , anyway.

“But I didn’t mean to ruin anything,” adds Gil.

They stare at each other for a long time, breathing and blinking. Gil tries to ascertain what he’s supposed to _do_ ; it’s impossible to tell. Reyes was so kind to him the last time he was here… but maybe they only work in that direction: when Gil is the fucked up one and Reyes is his savior. The thought makes Gil wish he didn’t come.

“Well, you _didn’t_ … ruin anything... but only barely,” Reyes says finally.

Gil feels himself smile—just a hint of a smirk, really. “Do I dare ask what’s going on?”

Reyes relaxes. He pushes the heel of his left hand against his eye and sighs. “It’s just these fucking gangs… a big turf war broke out a couple days ago and _somehow_ each side got its hands on shipments of weapons and ammo crates. So I’m in the middle, trying to broker some kind of cease fire.

“Shit,” says Gil.

Reyes finally gestures for him to sit at the counter. As Gil does it, he remembers the last time he sat here. It feels like he was someone else then—some sadder, ruined version. He shivers.

“So what were you doing tonight?” asks Gil.

“Nothing really…” Reyes sits in the stool immediately next to his. “We’re just keeping the streets clear after dark. It’s a precautionary thing…” He pauses. “I know what you’re thinking,” he says suddenly.

It’s weird because _Gil_ doesn’t.

“—it’s _not_ martial law… it’s just… for safety…” Reyes looks exhausted.

“I understand… sacrifices and all that…” mumbles Gil. He doesn’t _really_ support it, though. One of the things about Andromeda that he believes in is _freedom_. He’s a little uneasy about the whole idea of Kadara’s burgeoning government and this seems like a step in the wrong direction. Nevertheless, he turns in his seat a little so they’re face to face and puts a hand tentatively on Reyes’ knee. “Are you okay?”

Reyes smiles. “I should be asking _you_ that… Sorry about before… I didn’t mean to come off like… such an asshole.”

Gil shrugs.

“Thanks.” Reyes puts his own hand on top of Gil’s.

_Shit. This is happening._

For a second, Gil isn’t sure if this is a highly developed dream or not. He’s had lots of nightmares that begin like this actually. Something _creepy_ , then he’s having sex with someone _hot_ , and then suddenly he’s bleeding or the world is ending or he has to run through the streets naked.

When Reyes leans in and kisses him, though, he’s pretty sure it’s real.

“What was that for?” asks Gil. Their lips are still close enough to brush.

“Does everything have to have a _purpose_?” laughs Reyes. “Stars… you engineers…”

Gil laughs too, but before he’s done, he puts a hand around the back of Reyes’ neck pulls him in. When their lips meet this time, they’re open, eager. It’s all _easy_.

In fact, it’s _so_ easy that Gil doesn’t really know how they make it to the bed. Before he even knows it he’s straddling Reyes’ waist and working on the enclosures of his shirt. It has a significant number of zippers and pulls. When he finally gets the thing undone and rips it off over Reyes’ head—with no small amount of effort—he takes a second to _look_. Reyes’ skin is just as smooth-looking as he expected… dented and rippled in exactly the right places. He drags his palms along the expanse of his chest and licks a line along the branch of his neck.

Reyes groans into Gil’s ear and that, in and of itself, seems like enough to make this whole night worth it.

“Stars, you’re beautiful,” whispers Gil.

Reyes bites the edge of Gil’s ear and mumbles something that isn’t words. It’s a sound Gil is sure he’ll hear in his dreams from now on. “Can I?” Reyes finally manages. He looks pointedly at the enclosure of Gil’s pants.

“Yes, oh my… p-please…” Gil scrambles to make enough space so Reyes can undress him.

They roll and tumble and struggle and pull until they’re under the covers, completely bare. Reyes pins Gil against the mattress. The weight of his body and the smell of his skin make Gil feel pleasantly lightheaded. He grinds his cock up against Reyes’ hip and almost cries out at the smooth contact. It’s so much _better_ than he imagined. He cranes his neck to push their mouths together. His tongue slides between Reyes’ lips and he groans into the negative space of his mouth.

Reyes swears and trails his hand between them. There isn’t really space, but he manages to grab onto Gil’s cock and stroke it clumsily. Even the small movement makes him roll his hips involuntarily. He bites down on Reyes’ bottom lip and whimpers, “Dear g—… oh my… holy… _fuck_ …”

Reyes pauses, looking at Gil for a second. “You’re hilarious…” he groans, “...when you’re out of words.”

Gil groans and grinds a palm into his left eye. “Shit… I can’t… I can’t even _respond_ to that. Are we going to…  to… _fuck_? Or what?”

Reyes laughs. “Not yet.” He cocks an eyebrow and starts to move. He kisses a line down Gil’s chest and across the expanse of his abdomen, paying special attention to each muscular deviation—licking and sucking his way across Gil’s hip—until he can nuzzle into the side of Gil’s cock.

Gil gasps. “ _Please…_ ”

Reyes smirks. It’s a vicious, beautiful, daring expression that Gil wants to wipe off his face by force—tackle him until he can’t do anything but pant and whine—but he forgets all about it the second Reyes sucks him into his mouth.

 _Fuck_.

The sensation is so good Gil is starting to think of this as a religious experience. He groans and thrusts up into Reyes’ mouth instinctively. Before he even wants to admit it, he has that familiar feeling of falling that precedes an orgasm—like his body is hurtling toward an edge and his mind isn’t able to keep up.

“Reyes, fuck… I’m—I’m going to…” he manages.

He means it as a warning, as a preemptive flare: ‘ _stop or else_!’ but Reyes doesn’t take it that way. Instead of backing off, he doubles down, working his hand up and down the shaft below his mouth, tributaries of spit collecting under his palm.

A few seconds later, everything blurs white and Gil comes _brilliantly_. And although it’s probably not true, Gil imagines that everything in the room goes absolutely _silent_.

Before Gil has even come back to himself, Reyes’ mouth is on his. The taste of his own come is strangely alluring and he licks into Reyes’ mouth without hesitation. Eventually, he smiles—he can’t help it.

“Stars… holy… shit. What… _what_ can I do for you?” he asks.

Reyes laughs. “You don’t _have to_ do anything.”

“I know that,” argues Gil. He’s starting to feel like a person again, so he pushes up against Reyes’ chest until he’s supporting himself on his elbows. “But what _can_ I do? I will do _anything_. Do you want to fuck me?”

Reyes smiles gently and kisses Gil again. “Just touch me.”

It’s a simple request—almost terrifyingly so. For a minute, Gil isn’t sure he’s heard him right. “Touch you?” he repeats.

Reyes nods.

As Gil trails his hand between them and grips Reyes’ cock, he wonders if he is _still_ misunderstanding. Maybe there is some _other_ method of touching that he hasn’t yet discovered in his years of sexual exploration, but the look that crosses Reyes’ face when he takes him in hand reassures him. It’s blissful, decadent.

“You feel so good,” says Gil. It’s less of a compliment and more of an involuntary utterance. Reyes’ cock is thick and heavy against his hand, liquid already collecting against the skin of Gil’s palm.

Reyes’ eyes flutter closed, and he smiles, thrusting forward into Gil’s hand. He pushes Gil backward onto the bed again, closing the space between them. He kisses Gil like he’s oxygen, like he’s essential, like this is the most _natural_ thing they’ve ever done.

Before he expects it, Gil feels Reyes start to shudder, his hips snapping forward in increasingly erratic bursts.

_Stars. Please come._

“Gil…” breathes Reyes. It’s just one word—not attached to any kind of a sentence—but it might be the nicest thing Gil has heard in his whole life. He breathes almost as raggedly as Reyes does—unfamiliar emotion filling his brain with cotton—and kisses him again, more deeply than all the times before, just as Reyes comes.

 

A few minutes later—it could be two or ten—they’re panting up at the ceiling side by side. Gil finds Reyes’ hand between them and holds it. They’re sticky—traces of come and sweat still wet on their bodies—but it doesn’t feel terrible like so many other encounters Gil has had in his life. It feels _right_.

...but then he gets a call. The earpiece is somewhere next to the bed, but it makes a noise, because it’s a priority channel.

“Sorry,” he pants.

Reyes shrugs.

Gil sits up and pads across the carpet. “Hello?” he says, fixing the piece in his ear.

“Gil?”

It’s a voice he knows—a voice he has heard in his nightmares every night since… since…

“ _Jill…_ ” he breathes.

He makes the mistake of looking at Reyes at that exact second. He watches the color drain out of his face almost as rapidly as he feels it happen on his own.

He suddenly can’t remember how to talk. The sweat on his skin has turned icy cold and he feels panic closing in around his chest. He sits on the edge of the bed...stumbles, really.

Just as he’s about to completely lose it, something happens. He feels arms around his waist, a warm chest pressed against his back, full lips against the nape of his neck. And in that moment, he _knows_ —he can do this.

“Hi Jill… I’m _so_ sorry I haven’t called.”

* * *

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil has to leave Kadara suddenly after Jill's phonecall. Things get a little awkward once he's back on the Tempest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings. Just some awkward stuff and lots of Gil's inner turmoil. He's so sweet; I want to hug him.

* * *

“I’m sorry; I have to go,” says Gil.

Reyes shrugs. He’s still naked—and beautiful—on the edge of the bed, but Gil has to leave… _right now_.

“I… I’ll…” Gil isn’t sure how to finish the sentence, though. He’ll call? He’ll send an email? He’ll be back to visit? It’s not like they’re _dating_. One sexual encounter—even a fantastic, mind-blowing, _life-altering_ sexual encounter—does not a relationship make. So he stops talking abruptly and tries to find his clothes. “Can I just…” He gestures toward the bathroom door.

Reyes nods and smiles, but he looks like _something_. It’s an expression Gil can’t quite place… and this _really_ isn’t the time, anyway, so he stumbles into the bathroom and closes the door.

_Should he lock it?_

His hand hesitates over the knob. He doesn’t know why it feels so wrong to do it—they’re not anything to each other… just random acquaintances… but still…

Gil decides _not_ to lock it. He steps into the shower and rinses. A moment later, he hears something, though. For a second, he thinks it’s the door opening. He imagines a scenario where Reyes steps into the shower behind him and kisses his neck. Where they spend even a few more minutes rubbing against each other, licking and sucking every inch of skin they can reach… but it’s just the wind blowing against the aluminum siding of the building.

Gil finds himself feeling hollow… if he didn’t know better he’d think it was the sting of disappointment… but it _can’t_ be that, can it? Is that an emotion he can have? Is that even allowed? Does he even _deserve_ it?

 _No_. Not after how he handled this thing will Jill, certainly. He remembers what he’s supposed to be doing and squares his jaw. It’s time to face this. There’s no turning back.

 

“Do you need anything before you go?” asks Reyes, back in the kitchen. He’s managed to put himself together in a cursory manner, Gil notices.

“No… thanks…” Gil almost adds something _really_ stupid like, ‘but thank you for your hospitality,’ or ‘I seem to have made enough of a mess already,’ but he manages _not_ to—thankfully.

“Okay… well…” Reyes shrugs. He doesn’t move from a spot on the carpet between the bed and the stools they were sitting in earlier.

Gil wants to _hug_ him, he realizes, much to his horror. The last time he hugged Reyes, he was ruined. The last time they _hugged_ he was someone else. And now, in light of what they were just doing, he doesn’t know if that sort of thing will be appreciated.

“Okay… I guess that’s it,” says Gil. He grabs his coat and turns toward the door, hating the decision to leave before he’s even done it.

 

* * *

 

Back on the Tempest, Gil knows something is different the second he comes aboard. Peebee grabs him around the elbow and pulls him into a security access room.

“Did you _hear_?” she asks. Her eyes are as big as saucers, but she’s smiling.

“Clearly, no… I just got here.”

“Ryder and Jaal are back together,” says Peebee imperiously. “You owe me 1000 credits. Pay up.”

“What?” laughs Gil. “I do _not_ …”

“Yes you do!”

“How do you figure?”

“The other day I said, ‘I bet you 1000 credits they’re back together before we get to the next system and you scoffed,” she explains.

“That is not the same thing as agreeing to the wager…” Gil rolls his eyes. “Besides, I would never make a bet against _Chris_ —she’s resilient.”

Peebee hits Gil’s arm. “Fine… but you _at least_ have to buy me a drink the next time we’re at the Nexus…”

“Deal…” says Gil. “Now are you going to let me out of here?” He looks at the door and manages to smile. It’s the lightest he’s felt since that phone call and he’s actually incredibly grateful, he realizes.

“I guess… go say hi to Ryder… but knock first,” she laughs maniacally.

He nods to her and proceeds down the hallway. He needs to talk to Chris anyway… they need to go back to Eos. He wonders transiently if Chris will balk—if carting him around the galaxy is getting tiring. _He’s_ certainly tired of it.

Before he’s had time to argue with himself thoroughly, he’s in front of Chris’ door. He pushes the plate on the outside.

“Come in,” she calls. When she sees him, her face changes. “You’re back… _already_? What happened?”

Gil feels himself flush. “Well… we can get into that later… I heard about Jaal.”

She smiles. “Yeah. We worked it out; you were right.”

Gil is left wondering _how_ , but Chris doesn’t say. She’s private sometimes; he respects that. She pats the bed next to her so he’ll sit.

“So… what happened with Reyes?” she asks.

Gil rolls his eyes. “It was… good…” then he smiles. “Actually… everything went kind of great… but…”

“But?”

“But Jill called,” he blurts.

Chris’ face turns ashen.

“So we need to go to Eos… if… if that’s okay with you,” says Gil.

She nods. “What are you going to say to her?”

“I don’t know…”

Gil and Chris stare at a spot on the floor together.

“I think you’ll figure it out,” says Chris finally. She drops her hand onto Gil’s knee and smiles. “Do you want to talk it out?”

“No,” answers Gil. “Thanks, though. I’ll come by later, okay?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll set in a course for Eos as soon as I can.”

 In the time since Gil first became friends with Chris he’s learned the value of silence. Throughout his life, it’s been hard for him avoid feeling rejected when people don’t spill their emotional ichor at him, but with her, it’s not an option. She plays it close to the vest; she lets thoughts and feelings ruminate and develop before she reveals them. It’s part of her process and it’s something she needs, even with a best friend. Now _Gil_ does it too.

Back in his bunk, Gil realizes how exhausted he is. He strips off his clothes and crawls between the sheets. With the pressure of talking to Jill delayed slightly, he starts to think about how he’s going to handle this with Reyes moving forward. Is there a _forward_?

He grabs his pad from the nightstand and flips through a few emails. An insane voice in his head insists there might be something there from Reyes, but—predictably—there isn’t. He could let it go—use Chris’ marination technique on Reyes, but he really doesn’t want to. What is there to marinate in this scenario? They had sex… and it was great… and now he’s back in his bunk _alone_ when they could be learning about each other without fabric in between.

Of course… Gil _can’t_ keep him… he knows that. They’re divided geographically and by time… they have responsibilities that are distinct from each other… but _still_.

Gil decides not to wait. He dials.

“Hello?” says Reyes.

“Hi, it’s me…” says Gil lamely.

“Yeah, I know.” Reyes laughs. “Did you miss me already?”

Gil smiles despite himself. “No. I called because I can’t stand you. Thank heavens I’m out of there.”

They both laugh, but it fades quickly.

“So… listen…” Gil clears his throat and sits up in his bunk. Even though Reyes can’t see him, it seems better to be upright. “I think we need to talk about what happened… at least a little.”

Reyes makes a sound so noncommittal that Gil can’t figure out what it means.

“I had fun…” says Gil. He waits for Reyes to say, ‘ _I had fun too’_ , but that doesn’t happen. Gil starts to lose his nerve.

“Anyway… I don’t _expect_ anything else from you… that’s all I wanted to say,” lies Gil.

Reyes sighs. “I understand.”

_Silence._

“Okay… I’m glad we sorted that out, then…” Gil twists his fingers into his sheets uncomfortably.

“Me too,” says Reyes. “I’ve gotta get going…”

“Yeah… of course…”

 

* * *

 

It takes several days to get from Kadara to Eos. Gil feels every minute of the transit. His work is a bright spot, but it isn’t complicated enough to fill his entire awareness. There’s a lot to be worried about… _Jill_ , primarily, but also… Reyes… that apartment he hasn’t been invited back to.

He sighs and rolls his eyes at a work order on his pad. Something is broken in Chris’ quarters.

“Chris?” he calls at her door. It’s open ajar. In fact, now that he’s looking at it, it’s the door— _that’s_ what broken. “Chris, you know I’m not a maintenance person, right?” He wedges his arm between the two halves and wrenches the thing open.

“Thank the stars you got here… I’ve been stuck for an hour,” she complains.

He laughs. “Oh the irony… all the Archon needed was a faulty pocket door.”

She rolls her eyes. “Very funny, Gil.” She smiles haughtily and sits on the bed while he inspects the door’s control panel. “So… we’re going to be docking in an hour or so…”

His face falls.

“Are you doing okay?” she asks.

He shakes his head. “Not remotely. I’ve spent the last three days trying to figure out what to say… There aren’t any formulas for this type of thing.”

She nods. “Maybe you don’t need to say anything.”

He looks up and squints.

“Maybe she just needs to talk…” Chris looks down at the floor. “ _I_ would… if it were me.”

Gil nods and swallows. “Thanks, Chris…”

 

* * *

 

It turns out that Chris was right—Jill _does_ need to talk. She needs a platform and adequate silence to express herself… and so does he, actually. Once they get into it, he finds himself tearful and choking. He always knew it, but Jill proves to be the stronger of the two of them. She holds space for him while he sobs. By the end of the night, they hug and part, agreeing to talk again sooner than later. They aren’t ready to just move on, but they’re ready to _start_.

 

* * *

 

“You were right, Chris,” calls Gil, back on the tempest. He never actually finished fixing her door earlier, so when he approaches it, he can hear Chris talking to someone on vidcom inside. It takes him a second to realize it’s a voice he knows.

“—that’s exactly what I said,” cackles Chris.

“Well, you were right, I guess,” admits Reyes.

Gil stops dead in the negative space of the broken door. He feels instantly sweaty and faint. He knows he _shouldn’t_ —he hasn’t done anything _wrong_. They’re adults… they’re allowed to have sex and move on… it’s _normal_ … except nothing about this situation feels normal. It feels awful.

“Hi, Gil,” says Reyes.

Hearing his name is enough of a disruption to his train of thought that he laughs. “Hi.”

Chris waves him into the room. “We were just talking about you.”

“You were?” he asks skeptically.

“Yes,” says Reyes. “I was mentioning that we need to get someone to teach our crews about vehicles. We are building a small fleet to go explore some of the dead zones of the planet.”

“Oh…” Gil shifts uncomfortably. “I mean… can’t _you_ do that?” He’s remembering the careful way Reyes assembled his motorcycle. He wishes he’d gotten to see that bike one more time, now that he thinks about it.

Reyes laughs. “That’s what I was just telling Ryder… but… she doesn’t think I’ll do as good of a job as you would…”

Gil isn’t sure what to say, so he shrugs noncommittally.

“What do you think, Gil?” asks Chris. She gives him a subtle look that implies, ‘say _yes_ , you idiot.’ “Do you think the Tempest will survive without you for a week or so?”

“Uh… yeah… I guess I could do that…” says Gil. He takes a few steps forward and looks around at the room appraisingly. He frowns when he sees the door. “No one is going to fix that door, though… so you’ll be sacrificing…”

She laughs. “Can you be ready this afternoon?”

He nods. He won’t look at Reyes directly, though. It’s such an obvious set up; he doesn’t want Reyes to feel like he _has_ to act on it. In fact, he’d rather seem aloof to the whole concept. So, feigning pique, he stomps off toward his room to pack.

* * *

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gil starts teaching the new engineers on Kadara and finds he likes it. Reyes remains a mystery.
> 
> This concludes the story. Thank you so much for reading!

* * *

“So… when you’re designing vehicles for this type of terrain, there are a few things you want to keep in mind,” says Gil. He’s standing at the front of a makeshift classroom with a holo-projection of the Nomad in the middle of the room. Two days into this gig, he’s found he _loves_ it.

“First... performance… _of course_ ,” he continues.

He catches the eye of one of his favorite students. She’s this tiny Angaran with a permanently eager, inquisitive expression. She’s nodding and tapping a pad on her lap.

“But also… we need to be practical—we’re engineers, aren’t we?” He laughs and so do they. “So if we only have a finite amount of rubber, for example, what might we do to remedy that?”

Three students raise their hands. He calls on a dark-haired boy in the back. He’s probably in his twenties, but he looks like a _boy_ to Gil—small and thin.

“We could make a three-wheeled version,” he offers.

“Yes, that’s a great idea… would you put the two wheels in front or back?” asks Gil.

The boy pauses, considering. “The back,” he answers. “To give it more torque potential?”

“Yes. That’s correct,” says Gil. He looks at his watch. It’s almost five already. “Okay, we’re out of time… but take this lesson to heart and come back with three efficiency designs for tomorrow and we’ll discuss.”

Everyone thanks him and waves goodbye. He hasn’t felt so appreciated since...maybe _ever_? It isn’t until he scrutinizes that feeling that he starts to realize what it’s reminiscent of: _parenting_. Of course, he was never really a parent… he never got to _try_ … but he thinks now that he might have been great at it. His stomach lurches; he grabs onto the edge of a console for support.

“Uh… Gil?”

Gil whirls. It’s Reyes. “Are you okay?” he asks.

“Oh… yeah, I’m fine.” Gil straightens awkwardly and smiles. It feels like a mask. “What’s up?”

“Not much… I just wanted to check in. Are they making progress?” He gestures to the now-empty classroom.

“Yeah… they’re doing great, actually. I think they’ll be ready to start production within the next couple weeks…” answers Gil.

“So… will you still be here when they’re doing that?” asks Reyes. He looks worried, actually. The expression throws Gil slightly.

“Uh… I think so,” he answers. He shifts his weight onto his front foot without meaning to. It effectively puts them closer together. “I’ll ask Chris if she needs me… but… I think she’s got everything under control, pretty much…” He coughs. “I mean… if you _want_ me to be here…”

Reyes frowns. “I just want them to be ready and for this project to get underway.”

 _Oh_. He feels his face fall. “It will be fine.” He looks at the door apprehensively. “So… Unless there’s something else?”

Reyes shakes his head and steps aside. Gil leaves feeling hollow.

 

* * *

 

The next several days are much of the same. He really enjoys his students and now he knows all their names. The thin boy is called Luke; the curious Angaran, T’lara. The rest of them are equally as nice, but not as naturally inclined toward the subject. Gil likes them just the same.

What he _doesn’t_ like is anytime Reyes comes to check on their progress. He doesn’t bother with speaking to Gil directly anymore; he comes into the classroom and looks at everyone’s work, jokes with the students… but he doesn’t ask Gil anything unless he _has_ to. Even then, it’s cursory. The longer it goes on, the more resentful Gil finds himself feeling. He imagines scenarios where he corners Reyes and forces him to explain himself. At least he’d _know_ , then… even if all he said was that he didn’t want to see Gil anymore. They need a boundary; this is too unfinished… an unsolved equation… a scatterplot without a line of best fit… a series of data without a median.

 _Math…_ That’s a subject Gil can wrap his mind around: it makes sense; it has rules. With matters like this… matters like _Reyes_ … there aren’t any rules.

 

* * *

 

“Is this material going to be easy to mine?” asks Reyes one afternoon. As per usual, he _isn’t_ asking Gil.

“We’re not sure yet,” answers Luke.

Reyes looks like he’s about to get salty with Luke, so Gil intervenes. “It’s going to be fine… if you can’t find it here, we can use the Tempest’s survey teams to rustle it up on other planets or in remote locations.” He glares at Reyes.

“Okay,” says Reyes placidly. “It sounds like you’ve got it all under control.” He starts to walk toward the hallway, but Gil has questions. He nods at the students to keep working and follows him, catching his shoulder as soon as they’re out of sight.

“What’s going on with you?” asks Gil. It’s blunt, but he’s insanely protective of his students, especially Luke, who seems like a precocious _boy_.

“What are you talking about?” Reyes turns around and pulls on the cuff of his sleeve, righting it.

“You’ve been really tough on them,” says Gil.

Reyes rolls his eyes. “They’re not kids; we need them to be productive.” He takes a step closer to Gil. “That’s why you’re here… remember?”

Gil feels the urge to back up with Reyes that close, but he won’t let himself. He knows the gesture will be read as defeat instantly. Instead, he takes a step closer—so close that they almost touch.

“Yes, but griping at them isn’t going to make them want to work for you,” explains Gil. “I learned a long time ago that people are much better with positive reinforcement.”

He wants to add that he could use some positive reinforcement of his own… like, if Reyes _doesn’t_ back away right now it would be a nice start—a clue.

“I know that,” says Reyes.

Then he _does_ —back away. It’s just three steps, but it hurts.

“Just make sure they get something produced in the next couple of days and I can ease off them, okay?” adds Reyes.

Gil nods, but he’s not thinking about his students anymore; he’s trying to understand what _happened_ here. It was clearly _something_.

Reyes turns to leave again and in that moment, Gil realizes he needs to say something _now_. If he doesn’t, he’ll always wonder… and wondering is a kind of hell he can’t tolerate. It’s worse than rejection, worse than fear, worse than knowing hard truths.

“Reyes?”

Reyes turns and raises an eyebrow. It could be construed as a daring expression, but Gil doesn’t think so—it’s tinged with something so sad it almost throws him.

“What happened between us?” asks Gil. Then he waits… it’s almost impossible; the air shivers in his lungs and his heart thumps loudly in both ears… but _still_ ; he waits.

“I don’t know what you mean,” says Reyes.

Gil rolls his eyes. “Yes, you do. Things were… good, weren’t they? I mean… they were _becoming_ good?”

Reyes remains insouciant.

“And then suddenly, you didn’t want to talk to me anymore…” continues Gil.

That’s when Reyes’ face changes, “Who said that?”

“Well…” but Gil’s words dry up. _No one_ said that; Gil implied it.

“I never wanted to stop talking _to you_ ,” says Reyes. He takes a step forward, nearly closing the gap between them.

A minute ago, Gil was committed to not backing up, but he feels powerless to do anything else now. He takes a step backward; his heel bumps into the wall behind him.

“ _You’re_ the one who left,” concludes Reyes. “I just thought…”

Gil bites his bottom lip. “You thought it was ephemeral?”

Reyes shrugs.

“I can understand that,” says Gil. “I was… not in a good place… I’m still… a fucking mess.”

Reyes nods. “That’s what I thought.” He turns to leave again.

Gil chases him across the floor; his foot squeaks against the linoleum audibly, but he doesn’t really hear it. Getting to Reyes is the only thing he can think of. He grabs the crook of his arm and pulls him back.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” says Gil seriously. “I can completely understand if you don’t want _me_ … based on the tumultuous timing of our meeting… but… don’t—for a second—think that this isn’t what I want… that you know better than I do what I can handle.”

Reyes purses his lips.

“Because I can handle a lot more than you might think,” continues Gil. “Fuck, it’s a lot more than _I_ thought… and you…” He sucks in a breath and shivers. “You’re not something to _handle_ anyway… you’re something… someone… you’re someone I think I could love.”

Reyes’ eyes widen. Gil thinks he might have overstepped.

“Not that I’m saying that’s what’s happening… but… anything _could_ happen, Reyes…” Gil softens his grip on Reyes’ arm and lets his fingertips trail down until they find the palm. “My life isn’t what I thought it would be; it isn’t what I planned… so why should the future be any different? It’s _unwritten_ , Reyes… it can be anything we want.”

Reyes swallows audibly into the silence. Gil has no choice but to wait.

“I want to love you,” says Reyes finally.

“What?” Gil almost laughs; it’s an odd thing to say, but this whole thing is odd… it fits.

“I want to see… if that’s a thing,” clarifies Reyes.

Gil laughs and lets his shoulders relax. He didn’t know he was holding himself so tightly until he feels the difference. “I want that too.”

They stare at each other—blinking and breathing. It goes on for such a long time, Gil starts to think this might be an elaborate dream—brought on by stress and the semi-toxic Kadara air—but then Reyes moves. He closes the gap and wraps his arms around Gil’s waist.

“Then let’s not wait,” Reyes says, kissing him.

 _Then let’s not_.

 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to those of you who supported this story. I really like this pairing and I'd love an opportunity to write more for them. (So prompt me.)
> 
> <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Earlgreyer and Aurlana for beta-ing this one. I love you guys!


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